Leniency
by Gale
Summary: A story for anyone who ever thought Lucius Malfoy was a bad father. Set during Chamber of Secrets. Please Read and Review.


Leniency

-A Harry Potter Fanfic-

*Written By Gale*

Disclaimer - Nope, characters aren't mine. Also, this wasn't beta-read so ignore any slips in grammar. Goes hand in hand with _Chamber of Secrets. _

Lucius brushed a bit of imaginary dust from his cloak as he followed after his son into the house, not the least bit surprised to see his only son was in a hurry to be rid of his presence. He shook his head almost sadly at the boy's presumption. Given his deep vehemence for the day's events, (shown quite visibly by the purpled, swollen state of his left eye,) the two of them should have been on the same page as far as the issue of _what Draco can get away with and what he can't_ went. 

He rubbed at the bruise with a thumb and shot an irritated glance at Dobby, who skittered somewhat out of reach, waiting to take his cloak. He shifted his cane into a better hand with a satisfied smirk. _Still reviewing his lesson from yesterday, I expect, _he thought mildly to himself as he dragged his gloves off and dropped them on him. For whatever reason, the little wretch was behaving more eccentric than normally of late, and had been stupid enough to fail to get out from under his feet when he left for work. 

Set to mumbling in order to drown out the elf's whimpers, Lucius worked distractedly at the clasps for his cloak, shooting one sidelong glance down the main hall to his retreating son. "Draco, you're not excused." He released the garment from his shoulders, then strode forward, leaving the mess for Dobby to clear up. 

His proudest accomplishment froze in mid-step and hunched his shoulders. Lucius heard a low "yes father, sorry father" as Draco rounded slowly and trudged back to him. 

He waited, arms crossed over his chest, until Draco came to stand directly before him, head bowed like it always was when something was being hidden between the two of them. 

"Well?" he said expectantly, watching his son flinch. "Turn your pockets out."

"_Father…" _the boy drawled, as though he were chastising him in front of the entire Ministry.

"_This minute, _young man."

Draco sighed in frustration, half growling, and shoved a hand into his robes. He nudged the edges of his cloak away to reveal an outed pocket, and all that lie in his hand was a torn piece of paper. 

Lucius shook his head and reached out to take it, examining the print on it with a trademark _I'm not mad, just disappointed _frown creased into his features. For Draco's good fortune, it was nothing potent, just a simple curse that he could probably master on his wand in ten minutes or less. That didn't stop the whole situation from looking just as petty and shorthanded as it always did when they went through this. 

"You took this out of a book." 

A tense silence followed, the kind that forced an anxious lump up into one's throat. He watched Draco swallow hard, then nod. "Yes, father."

Firmness never once leaving his face, Lucius folded the sheet, then tore it. Folded again, tore, watching from behind the rain of freshly ruined parchment as Draco's hands clenched against the sides of his robes. "Your other pocket." He didn't give him long to hesitate this time. "_Now, _boy."

At the sight of what Draco pulled out next, Lucius felt his slowly wearing nerves snap, and he immediately snatched it out of his hands. 

He recognized it to be an amulet, which had been in the box he took to Borgin that very day. It'd _been _wrapped; it was far too dangerous to carry it as was -- luckily for his foolish son, it hadn't activated itself. "You stole _this?" _The sheer audacity alone was enough to grit his teeth. "I just went to the trouble to get this out of the house and you _stole _it?"

"Father, I didn't -- I mean…."

"Did I _not _tell you to _touch nothing?" _he demanded, voice raising a notch or two. 

"Yes, but father --"

"Do you realize how _dangerous _most of the things in that store, in that _box, _are, Draco? You have the gall to not only _steal _when I can _more _than provide for you, but from _me _as well?!" Not the least bit surprised by his son's fearful silence, he bent down to snatch one of his gloves back from Dobby. "I'm having this discussion with you for the _last time, _Draco," Lucius muttered. 

Another bow of his head, "Yes, father."

"Perhaps Borgin was right in his assumption: perhaps all you _can _amount to is petty thievery." He wrapped the jewel in folds of dragon hide, then shoved it into his own robes. "Your mother is _not _coming home from St. Mungo's to hear what you've been at again; she has enough stress as it is without hearing her son shirks his very heritage in such a manner." 

And really, that was what made everything even worse. This was the third time in half a year that Narcissa made a trip to the hospital, and he doubted it would be the last anytime soon. Lucius new better than to expect positive results when she returned. Since Draco was enrolled in Hogwarts, they'd been trying for another child with no luck. For her sake, he tried to be optimistic, but by now, he'd resigned himself to the fact that Draco would be their only son. And this only son, for whatever reason, was a child pickpocket. They were a family of Slytherin, through and through, but thievery was beneath them, really. Any true Slytherin only stole to settle some material need, after all. And that was something Draco certainly did not have. Anything that the boy took, had he simply _asked _for it, he would have gotten. For Merlin's sake, he just _bought _twelve racing brooms for him and the House Quidditch team! 

Lucius snarled and shot his gaze to the side, "Dobby, my cloak." 

He scowled when he turned back to find his son staring at the floor red-faced and blinking angry tears out of his eyes. A pang of natural paternal instinct was soon replaced by irritated resolve. 

"I'll have none of that from you, son," he said, sounding slightly more gentle this time. "You're nearly thirteen years old, and you should know better."

Draco nodded.

"We're going back to Diagon Alley. You're going to give that back to Mr. Borgin and apologise. Is that understood?"

"Yes, father."

"And I'm going to make myself very clear on this, Draco: for this, you will receive no pocket money for when you go off to Hogwarts, and you may _not _return home for the holidays this year…."

"Father!" 

"I'm _not _finished, Draco." 

Judging from his objectionable stance, Lucius could tell the boy had only been an inch away from stamping one of his feet in protest, and that would have earned him a right slap in the face. Lucky he caught himself. 

When he was sure he'd gone silent, he went on, "If I hear anything -- _anything, _Draco, whether from Professor Snape or even that blithering fool, Dumbledore, about your making trouble, I will withdraw you from school, and you can go on practicing your favored trade as much as you like _without _support from either myself or your mother." 

Draco said nothing, fighting tears more violently now. 

Telling him to stop again was hardly going to do them any good. Lucius grasped one of his shoulders and led him toward the door. "Dobby, have the carriage brought around." He could compose himself on the way to Hogsmeade, where they could take a portkey on to Knockturn. "Come along, son."

END

AUTHOR'S NOTE - A.k.a. Why I Wrote This (Rated PG-13 for some language)

Quite honestly, I got tired of seeing Tom Felton stalkers trying to convince me that Draco was abused -- at least when they try to use what happened in _Chamber of Secrets_ as evidence. A lot of girls do this because they have some trouble accepting the fact that Draco Malfoy is, through and through, a spoiled rotten little prick. They tell me "Look at his home life," which, I'm sorry, you _don't _see anywhere in the movies or the books, pretty much. One can assume by what you see _outside _of the home, in relation to his family, that he is _still _spoiled rotten. I point this out, and it always comes up "Lucius hit him with his cane." 

I'm going to break this down for anyone who wants to object when I say this: If I were Draco's father, I would have hit him too, which he _didn't_. 

Let's examine the evidence:

Lucius brings Draco into Borgin's to get rid of some incriminating items he happens to own. He tells Draco to _touch nothing. _What does Draco do? He touches something. Twice. And once, Lucius does take a swipe at him with his cane. He doesn't manage because Draco pulls his hand away from whatever he's touching, and judging from how I saw it, if the blow hand landed, it would have only been a light smack anyway. Why did he do it? Well, he DID just tell Draco not to touch anything. They're in a shop that sells dangerous things. Anything Draco touches in that place could potentially kill him, and he'd be too stupid to realize it. So quite honestly, that move could have been a protective one. Another reason he could have had is shown throughout the movie as well: in two instances in the movie, (I'm not sure about the book, but since the fan girls use the movie as proof, we'll stick with it,) Draco steals things: Once in Flourish and Blotts, and another time in the Slytherin Common room. Now, if Daddy knew his son had a tendancy to pocket things that didn't belong to him, I'd be watching where he stuck his fingers, too. 

So yes. I got sick of seeing Abusive!Lucius fics. The guy's a demented puppy-kicker, hiding behind good stature and money, but he wouldn't have the balls to take after his own son in public, or even at home, I'd imagine. Given Draco's evident attatchment to his mother (book 4), Narcissa would probably kill him, or in the least put him in the doghouse. 


End file.
